


How Deep is the Closet?

by suitbadgetie



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Coming Out, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 01:38:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4502823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suitbadgetie/pseuds/suitbadgetie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sixteen year old Jack Hotchner comes out to his dad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Deep is the Closet?

Jack swallowed hard as he looked at himself in the mirror. Hair a little too long, button down shirt looking a little too formal, but what the hell were you supposed to wear when you came out to your dad? A fucking suit so they could just bury you afterward? A shirt with a rainbow on it?

Whatever.

He sat on the couch, leg bouncing nervously as he counted the seconds until the door would open. Five thirty and his dad wasn’t back. Six o’clock. Maybe he got delayed on a case. Six thirty. Jack started making dinner.

“Maybe the cooking will come out for me.” Jack muttered as he poked the chicken to see if the skin had crisped yet. “What sixteen year old kid fucking cooks?” He sighed and blew his hair out of his eyes as he tipped the meat onto a paper towel to drain the oil.

“Gay sixteen year olds with a dad in the FBI who’s never home for dinner.” Jack made a face at the chicken and set the table for two. Maybe the second plate would conjure up his dad. Maybe he wouldn't have to come out tonight. He could just tell his dad that he was going to prom alone, no mention of Patrick or matching tuxes or—

The door opened. 

“Jack? I’m sorry I’m late. There was bad weather and the jet got delayed and then there was traffic. I’m sorry.” Jack looked up in time to see his father set his briefcase down and slip out of his suit jacket. He bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at his socks.

“It’s fine. I… um… I made chicken.” A few heart-stopping moments where all Jack could hear was the clock ticking. “Can I… can I talk to you before we eat?” He watched his father’s eyebrow creep up and quickly amended his statement: “Can we talk without you profiling me?”

“Of course.” Jack hated that he could never tell what his dad was thinking. Anger? Fear? The younger Hotchner never had a clue. Somehow that made his nerves worse.

Now or never. Rip the bandage off, Hotchner. 

“Dad…? I’m… I’m going to the prom with Patrick. Because I’m gay. We’re gay— we’re together.” That had sounded a lot more eloquent in his head and when he’d practiced in front of the mirror. Maybe he should’ve run it past Patrick first to make sure that it didn’t sound stupid. Too late now. Nothing he could do but wait and see.

Jack watched his father draw in a deep breath, and he clenched his hands in his lap as he waited for the rant he was sure was coming. 

And then his dad s m i l e d and Jack’s stomach turned over a little. He was so nervous that it felt like he could taste his heartbeat, thick and heavy in the back of his throat. Oh god.

“Jack… your father is a profiler. You know I try not to bring my work home with me, but there are certain things I can’t miss. You’re tall. You have brown hair. You’re gay.” The youngest Hotchner’s world turned upside down and then back again as he listened.

Do not cry. You are not going to cry. Fuck it, he was crying. He was crying and then his dad was there holding him (something that they hadn’t done in years) and everything was going to be okay and he wasn’t going to be kicked out and he could still be with his boyfriend. Everything was going to be okay.

“We were… ah.. we were thinking of wearing matching purple ties.” He mumbled into his father’s shirt. “Does that sound stupid?”

“Not at all.” Was his father’s reply. “But you have to promise me you’ll tell me when it is so that I can get pictures.” All Jack could do for a moment was nod through his sobs. 

“Yeah. You can take pictures.” He could feel his father’s smile where his hair was pressed to his face. “Love you Dad.”


End file.
